There’s a certain something that everyone in this world must do in order to function. In order to feel as if they are their true self, they must complete a certain task or fulfill a purpose in this life. For example, a chef must cook. A dancer must dance.
For me, it’s always been writing. Since I was eleven, I’ve been penning novels of adventure and mayhem, creating a world parallel to my own. Through that writing, I have entertained. Through that writing, I have helped others escape. Through that writing, I have taught some to love, some to laugh, some to fear.
But writing is what I was made to do. Writing – much like breathing – has become an extension of me.
And life has much to be written about.
I recently turned forty, and I’ve found myself contemplating my life. My story. It’s been an interesting one. Some good. Some bad. Some celebratory. Some heartbreaking. Like Indiana Jones once said, “It’s not the years, honey. It’s the mileage.” And that couldn’t be truer in my own life. I’m not old, but I am…experienced? In what, I’m not sure.
But through it all, I write. I have to write stories. I have to write articles and blog posts and little observations about life. If it has anything to do with writing – I have to be involved.
And I couldn’t write without weaving the elements of my faith between the college-ruled lines. I’ve been following Christ longer than I’ve been writing, yet they both tie in with one another. My stories always seem to echo the great battle between good and evil, and moreso the evil in our hearts. Because as humans, we are evil. We are full of a greater darkness that only a particular light can extinguish. And it’s in writing these stories about humanity’s struggle that we discover the overwhelming need for a hero. For a savior. For a faith that can move mountains.
You’ve come to this blog for a reason. Possibly something I’ve written has interested you. Maybe you picked up one of my fiction novels. Maybe you scanned one of my blog posts. Maybe you’re interested in trying me out as an editor of your own writing.
Whatever the reason you’re here, I’m glad to have you here.
You know I love to write. You know I am strong in my faith. But what about the little details that fall in between the cracks?
I was born with a club foot, and was diagnosed with ADHD when I was two.
I was, am, and always will be obsessed with the show 24.
I still play Half Life 2: Deathmatch on my PC – even though it’s been more than ten years since the game released.
I love to cook, but only seem to do so on rare occasions.
I’ve only ever been able to keep two plants alive – my jasmine vine, and my lime tree. Nothing else has ever survived my black thumb. Well, besides that succulent on my patio. But succulents don’t count.
I accomplished NaNoWriMo twelve consecutive years.
I was once in a burning hotel and helped save a maid’s life.
If you’d like to get in touch with me, drop me a line at: firstname.lastname@example.org
Come find me online!